


Come What May

by Leslie_Knope



Series: Not Backing Down [2]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: First Time, Kinda, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-24
Updated: 2016-03-24
Packaged: 2018-05-28 21:36:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6346324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leslie_Knope/pseuds/Leslie_Knope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The boys deal with the fallout of their little out-of-town escapade. </p>
<p>(And this is just McDanno, so if you were put off by the het in the first part—this one’s safe!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come What May

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't intend for this to be so long (hence the delay in posting), but the boys wanted to have a lot of sex! And who am I to say no, really.

“Hey, Danny,” Kono says with a smile as she leans in his doorway, in that effortlessly casual way she has.

Stretching, he smiles and tosses his pen down onto the desk. “Hi, babe, what’s up?”

“You wanna go grab some lunch?”

“Sure thing,” he says, pushing his chair back and standing. “Is anyone else around?”

She shakes her head. “No, they’re all still out. Just us.”

“Even better,” he says, making her laugh. “Let’s go, then.”

They walk to a little café just a couple blocks from HQ and take a seat outside under an umbrella after ordering sandwiches. “So you wanna tell me what’s up with you?” Kono asks bluntly, and he gasps, feigning shock.

“You mean this lovely meal that we’re sharing has an ulterior motive? And here I was, just thinking that you wanted to spend time with me,” he says with a sad huff, shaking his head.

Kono laughs. “Well, of course I do. But I also wanted to, you know, check up on you.”

“Why, what do you mean?”

“You just seem a little off. Kinda quiet, I guess,” she says with a shrug, and Danny sighs.

It’s been two weeks since he and Steve got back from Seattle, and things between them are…not exactly back to normal. They’re mostly fine at work, thankfully, but that has been the extent of their interaction. No carpooling to work, no beers at Steve’s, not even one conversation that wasn’t explicitly work-related. And when they do happen to be alone together, as limited as it is, there’s an awkward vibe in the air until someone—usually Danny—rushes to fill the silence with work talk.

Meanwhile, Danny is freaking the fuck out because while Steve obviously wants to sweep this whole thing under the rug, he _cannot_ stop thinking about it. Nor can he stop jacking off in the shower to the memories—maybe ones that feature more Steve than Emily—and while that was more than a little alarming at first, he’s kind of gotten used to it. Mostly.

Maybe he just needs to talk about it.

“If I tell you something, can you promise not to tell anyone?” he asks, and she nods eagerly. “I’m serious! Not Chin, not Adam, nobody.”

“Danny, I promise,” she says, laying a hand on his knee under the table. “Whatever it is, your secret is safe with me.”

“And you _definitely_ can’t tell Steve that I told you this,” he says, pointing, and she puts her hand over her heart.

“I swear. C’mon, tell me.”

Danny takes a deep breath, then releases all the words in a rush. “When Steve and I were out of town a couple weeks ago, we had a threesome with a girl.”

Kono’s eyes light up, and her mouth drops into a perfect _O_. “What the fuck?” she whisper-yells. “Are you serious? How did that even happen? How drunk _were_ you?”

“We weren’t drunk at all! I mean, yeah, we’d had a couple drinks,” he allows, waving his hand, “but nowhere near drunk. I _wish_ we had that excuse.”

“Have you guys ever, you know, done anything like that before?” she asks as she leans forward in her chair.

“Of course not!” he says, spreading his arms. “What the hell?”

Kono shrugs, unrepentant, and takes a huge bite of her sandwich. “You guys are really close. It’s a valid question.”

“Yeah, and we’re also really _straight_. Or were, I guess?”

“I need every detail.”

“Okay, _no_. It’s a miracle I even told you this, so let’s remain calm,” Danny says, holding up his hand, and she laughs.

“Fine. How’d it happen, at least?”

He shakes his head with a snort and runs a hand over his hair. “It was…it was ridiculous. We were at a bar, competing over this girl to see who she’d give her number to first—”

“Of course you were,” she interrupts, and he laughs.

“She thought that we were together, apparently—”

“Of course she did,” Kono cuts in again. “Everyone does.”

Danny pauses for a second and leans closer. “I know they do, but why do people think that?” he asks, lowering his voice.

“It’s just—you two _fit_ somehow. It’s something about how you guys physically interact and how you talk to each other, I dunno. Anyway,” she says, waving her hand in a _go on_ motion. “Then what happened?”

“She totally initiated it, and then it just kinda…happened.”

“Whoa.”

“Yeah. I think at the beginning, at least, neither of us wanted to bow out and look like a pussy.”

Kono holds up her hand. “Wait, wait, wait, sidebar. Why is it that people say _balls_ to refer to something strong and _pussy_ to refer to something weak, when in reality vaginas are crazy strong and testicles are cartoonishly sensitive?”

Danny opens his mouth and then pauses, tilting his head. “I have no idea; that is an excellent point. So neither of us wanted to look like a testicle?”

She nods, looking satisfied. “Better. So was it fun?”

He pauses, his cheeks warming from the memory. “Yeah, it was, it was _really_ fun.”

“C’mon then, what’d you do, how far did you guys go?” she asks, grinning delightedly, and he props his head in his hands.

“Oh my god,” he says with a groan. “I am not telling you anything else. But we didn’t, uh, you know.”

“You didn’t fuck,” she says, nodding, and Danny winces.

“Thanks for that.”

“So what’s your problem? Are things weird between you guys now?”

“Eh, kinda. But that’s not actually what I’m worried about,” Danny says, and he pauses for a long second before he’s able to finish his thought and actually say the words aloud for the first time. “I’m worried because I think I might want to do it _again_.”

To her credit, if Kono is taken aback, she doesn’t show it on her face. “Well, I’m sure that there are lots of lovely ladies out there whom you could make very happy.”

“Okay, yeah, but this is a small island and word gets around. I don’t really think 5-0 needs the reputation of ‘those cops who have threesomes with girls.’”

“To be fair,” she says, trying and failing to hide a smile, “I’m pretty sure it would be just you two. I don’t think Grover or Chin would be interested. I’m certainly not.”

He rolls his eyes. “Very helpful, thank you. But what if—what if there is no girl?” he asks, holding up his hand when Kono opens her mouth. “So, she thought we were bi. But if Steve and I, uh, do stuff by ourselves, then that’s pretty much flat-out gay, right?”

“Okay, Danny, seriously,” she says, rolling her eyes, “you can still be bisexual without, you know, _literally_ having a girl in the room with you. That’s not how it works.”

“Shut up,” he says, tossing a wadded-up napkin at her in a fruitless attempt to distract from his flushed cheeks. “Cut me a little slack here, I’m trying to expand my definition of sexuality.”

“Sorry,” she says, giggling. “So what does Steve think?”

“I have no idea,” he says with a laugh. “I told him I didn’t want to talk about it, and we haven’t talked about _anything_ in the last two weeks.”

“Yikes. But you guys probably just need a little more time to let things shake out. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“Well, I hope you’re right,” Danny says, standing up. “You ready?”

The two of them run into Steve outside the office on their way back, and when he stops to say hello, Kono lets out an uncharacteristic squeak before covering her face with her hands and giggling. “Kono!” Danny hisses. Way to blow their cover, seriously.

“I’m sorry! I was just—” she says and then pauses, overcome with the giggles again.

Steve looks between them and inhales sharply, his eyes widening as the realization dawns on him. “Did you _tell_ her?”

Danny sighs. “Of course I told her!” he says, throwing up his hands. “I’m a talker, I have to talk about these things, I have to process my emotions. And lord knows you and I aren’t talking about it, so yeah, I had to tell her.”

“Don’t worry, boss, it’s cool,” she says, grinning widely now. “Very adventurous of you.”

Groaning, he runs a hand over his hair and brushes past them. “Okay, I’m leaving. Kono, it would be really great if we didn’t run into each other for like a week!” he calls out over his shoulder.

Danny crosses his arms and watches Steve go. “So. That went well.”

Kono chuckles and wraps her arm around Danny’s shoulders, guiding him inside. “You guys will be fine, don’t worry.”

Danny doesn’t see Steve for the rest of the day, but then he shows up in his office doorway around six, looking uncharacteristically uncertain. “Hi.”

“Hey,” he says, and then to fill the ensuing silence more than anything, “I’m sorry I told Kono.”

Steve waves his hand, shaking his head. “No, I understand,” he says, and then it’s quiet again before he looks straight at Danny, for the first time in about two weeks. “You said you wanted to talk about it.”

Danny opens his mouth to deny it, but then he shakes his head internally and swallows those words down. “Yeah. Yeah I do, actually.”

“You wanna come over? We can have dinner, I think I have leftovers.”

“Leftovers?” Danny asks, leaning back in his chair and lacing his hands behind his head. “Wow, what a tempting invitation.”

Steve rolls his eyes, but the corner of his mouth quirks up. “Come on, you know you don’t have a better offer.”

“I refuse to dignify that with a response,” he says, though he stands up anyway and gets ready to go. They hadn’t carpooled to work, of course, so they split up in the parking lot and Danny follows the Silverado, letting Steve deal with the traffic while he thinks.

Something is definitely up, and it’s making him uneasy. Because he thinks that in theory, yeah, they could have just brushed right past this. Just bros being bros, out of town and entranced by a hot girl and what she wanted—fun, certainly, but also no big deal and not something that would ever happen again. In that case, everything should be back to normal by now, once the inevitable, resulting awkwardness aired itself out.

But everything _isn’t_ normal, what with Danny reverting to teenage masturbatory habits and all. In addition, Steve seems unusually nervous, maybe a little cautious, and from where Danny’s standing, it’s due to one of two reasons: he has either picked up on _Danny’s_ feelings and is completely freaking out, or he’s warring with the exact same feelings.

Either way, Danny probably has to talk about those fucking feelings, if only so that they can get over this. Shit.

He pulls the Camaro into the driveway and takes one last deep breath. He successfully resists the impulse to check his reflection in the rearview mirror and just gets out of the car and goes inside, following Steve out to the lanai.

“Beer?” he says, and Danny jumps on the opportunity.

“Yes! Alcohol would be good, very good, thank you.”

Steve delivers him an open beer and then disappears back inside for a few minutes. When he comes outside again, his hands full, and heads for the grill, Danny pushes himself out of his chair and peers over Steve’s shoulder at the large slab of salmon, which looks to be slathered in something delicious. “What the hell is that?”

“Really, Danno?” he asks, not looking up from lighting the grill. “I know you’re not so hot on Hawaii, but I thought you had at least come around on the seafood.”

“I thought you said leftovers.”

“Yeah, well, you bitched about it.”

“And since when have you ever listened to me when I bitch?”

Steve doesn’t respond as he carefully greases the grill, giving the task a little more attention than it probably deserves. The fish doesn’t take long to cook, but Danny can’t take the silence anymore.

“So, uh, how’ve you been?” he asks, lamely, and Steve laughs.

“How have I _been_?” he repeats, tilting his head. He carefully checks the bottom of the fish and then uses his spatula to cut the filet into two pieces before sliding them off onto plates. “I see you almost every day. What kind of question is that?”

“Well, it’s not like we’ve been doing a real great job of talking lately,” Danny snaps, and Steve frowns.

“Just eat your dinner,” he says, thrusting one of the plates into Danny’s grip. He takes the plate and scowls but doesn’t say anything else—even he knows it’s rude to be mean to someone who’s making you food. Danny follows Steve to their normal chairs and sits down, taking a swig of his beer before wedging the bottle in the sand and then digging into the fish.

“Jesus Christ, this is delicious,” Danny says, barely managing to hold in a moan as he shovels another forkful into his mouth. “What did you do, why does this taste so good?”

There’s a pleased glint in Steve’s eye, but when he opens his mouth, Danny holds up his hand. “Swallow first, please, you Neanderthal.”

Steve makes a show of chewing with his mouth open, making Danny wince, but he does wait to speak. “Just a little marinade with soy sauce and brown sugar. Easy.”

“Well, thank you,” he says with a short nod, but Steve doesn’t say anything in response. So Danny just watches the sunset as he finishes his fish. If he didn’t know any better—which he definitely does, unfortunately—this would feel a whole lot like a date. Minus the whole not talking thing.

“I’ll get ‘em,” Danny says, taking Steve’s plate out of his hands after they’ve finished and heading inside, where he sets them to soak in the sink. He brings out the rest of the six-pack and sets it between their chairs, handing Steve an open one and nodding at his grunt of acknowledgement.

They each drink about a beer and a half in silence, but it’s not as awkward as Danny had feared, not even as awkward as it had been 10 minutes ago. It’s… _tense_ , certainly, and not exactly what he would call comfortable, but it’s not unpleasant—just the kind of silence that makes his heart rate pick up and his legs fidget in his chair.

“I thought you didn’t want to talk about it,” Steve says finally, his voice low. Danny shifts in his chair to face him, but Steve’s gaze is firmly fixed straight ahead.

“Yeah, well, I thought _you_ didn’t want to talk about it.”

“But that’s what you _said_ , right after,” he says, and Danny sighs.

“Again, I figured that’s what you wanted. And to be honest, 30 seconds after it happened…no, I did not, in fact, really want to talk about it in that moment.”

“But now?”

“Now…now I, uh, I feel like it’s affecting our friendship. Ergo, we should probably talk about it.”

“So talk,” he says, gesturing widely, his eyebrow raised in challenge.

With a deep sigh, Danny sets his beer bottle in the sand again and leans forward in his chair, bracing his forearms on his thighs. “I don’t really know what to say, man.”

“Had you ever, uh,” Steve says, gesturing, and even though Danny kinda wants to see him struggle through this, he cuts him off.

“With a guy?” he asks, and Steve nods. “No. You?”

He shakes his head, slouching down further in his chair and taking a long drag off his beer. “Had never even really thought about it.”

“Yeah, me neither.” Danny sucks his lower lip in between his teeth and gazes out at the ocean, inky black in the darkness now. “I, uh, I keep thinking about it, though.”

“Thinking about what?” Steve asks, and Danny huffs an exasperated laugh.

“When I was fucking her, I was thinking about fucking _you_ instead,” he says sharply. He feels a little lighter now that he’s laid all his cards on the table, but the undercurrent of fear has gotten stronger—especially since Steve hasn’t said anything in response and besides from a faint twitch in his jaw, hasn’t even reacted. “So, since you’re so curious, that’s what _I’ve_ been thinking about for the past two weeks. Your turn.”

Steve doesn’t look like he’s going to say anything anytime soon, actually, with the way he’s just staring at the beer bottle in his lap, and that little undercurrent of fear in Danny turns to icy terror running through his veins. He thought maybe the two of them were on the same page, but he clearly guessed wrong. “Oh, fuck,” he says, reaching up automatically to unfasten the top buttons of his shirt in a futile attempt to breathe better. “Shit. Steve, I didn’t—okay, I _did_ mean it, but it’ll be fine, I promise. It’ll go away, we never have to talk about this again, we can just pretend—” He pauses to take a breath before continuing his lame apology tour, but Steve shakes his head, opening his mouth to cut him off.

“I, uh, I liked fooling around with _you_ just as much as I did with her, maybe more, and it’s taken me a while to get my head around that,” he says haltingly, shooting quick glances at Danny as if he can’t bear to look at him for too long.

Danny blinks, and the relief courses through his body before his brain even has a chance to process the words. Of all the things Steve could have said, he certainly wasn’t expecting that. Something along the lines of _this is real awkward, man_ or _wow, you’re a shitty friend_ , sure, but not _this_. “Oh. Uh, wow,” he says, inelegantly as he reaches up to scratch at his hairline.

Steve nods and huffs a little laugh, like even he can’t believe it. “Yeah. So what are we supposed to do now?”

“I have no idea,” Danny says automatically, and then he takes a deep breath. “There are probably more things we have to think about, talk about. Work, you know.”

“Yeah,” Steve says, after a little swallow, and he takes a deep breath.

“Or,” Danny says, unconsciously clenching his fingers in the fabric of his pants. “Maybe we could just go inside and just…see what happens.”

Their eyes lock then, and it just hits Danny, smacks him in the chest and twists like a knife, leaving him breathless. God, it’s not even a _question_ , he can see the want in Steve’s eyes that he’s sure are reflected in his own—if they had just looked at each other, really looked, even once, they surely would have figured this out before now. Maybe it’s him who surges forward first, maybe it’s Steve, who the hell cares because now they’re kissing, _fuck_ , and Steve is tugging him out of his chair so they’re both kneeling in the sand.

His memories must have faded over the past two weeks because this is miles beyond what he had remembered, and he had remembered it being pretty fucking great. It’s hungry and wet, with Steve’s giant hands on his face to tilt his head and force his mouth open wider. Not that he’s resisting, at all, because the slick slide of Steve’s tongue should be illegal, really. He’s finally got his hands back on Steve, sweeping frantically up his arms and down his back as if trying to make up for the time they missed—two weeks, six years, who’s counting.

Steve pulls back first and sucks in a breath, his eyes huge and dark. “So I’m guessing no to the sand?”

“ _Fuck_ no to the sand, babe,” he says with a breathless laugh, grabbing Steve’s hand to haul him to his feet and then not letting go. “C’mon—couch, at least.”

They stumble inside but don’t make it far. Steve pushes him against the wall by the door, somewhat reminiscent of their previous experience, but Danny’s attention isn’t divided this time. It’s just Steve, Steve and his smell and his fucking… _largeness_ crowding him, and how the fuck have they not been doing this the whole time?

“If you pick me up, I will punch you again,” he murmurs against Steve’s lips—because it’s important to establish boundaries—but Steve just laughs. He slides his hands down Danny’s back, slowly, and grips his ass with a little grunt. Danny sucks in a breath, ready to intensify his threat at any sign of upward movement, but Steve just slides one hand around and gives his dick a vicious squeeze before pulling back.

“C’mon, then,” Steve says, grabbing for his hand and walking backward toward the couch. “My neck hurts.”

“Such a princess,” he mutters, but he’s smiling as he shoves Steve down onto the couch and straddles his lap. Danny’s knee is really going to be yelling at him later for this position, but there’s something he wants to try. Kneeling high so that his head is above Steve’s, he moves Steve’s arms behind his back, a little awkwardly considering their position, and holds both of his wrists tight in his hand. The noise Steve makes is tremendous, strangled and hoarse, and his eyes are wild, making Danny think that he’s maybe on the right track.

His other hand comes up to tangle in Steve’s hair, tugging sharply on the strands, and he just fucking takes his mouth—no-holds-barred, merciless, exactly what he’s been craving for the last two weeks. He bites at his lips and sucks on his tongue until Steve is veritably panting into the kiss, then he grinds down a little and makes him groan. Steve tries to shift his arms, as if he’s thinking about moving, but Danny makes some sort of displeased noise into his mouth and grips him tighter.

Steve jerks up against him once, twice, a third time, and then he’s shaking violently as he whimpers into Danny’s mouth. He rips his lips away with an unhappy little grunt and leans his forehead against Danny’s collarbone. It’s silent, save for the sound of their panting, and Danny freezes, trying to wrap his mind around what just happened.

He finally pulls back a little, releasing his grip on Steve’s hair and wrists and looking down between them. “Wow. Does that, uh—does that happen often?”

“Of course not,” Steve snaps, his face pinched. He looks pissed off and more than a little embarrassed, nowhere near the calm, relaxed post-orgasm Steve that he wanted to see. Danny continues to look at him, flicking his eyes up and down his body, and Steve grits his teeth. “What?”

“That was really fucking hot,” he says plainly, and Steve groans, clenching his eyes shut. “I’m serious.”

Steve shakes his head. He looks decidedly uncomfortable, but at least he hasn’t tried to dislodge Danny from his lap. “C’mon, open your eyes,” Danny says, softer this time, and he eventually obeys.

“Do you need, uh, help with that?” Steve asks, jutting his chin toward the bulge in Danny’s pants, and he smiles.

“I’m an adult, I can ignore it for five minutes,” he says. He clambers off of Steve, wincing at the predictable catch in his knee, and holds out his hand. “Come on, let’s go upstairs.”

Steve hesitates, but there’s a hint of a smile as he finally takes Danny’s hand and allows him to haul him up. “Okay.”

Once they reach Steve’s bedroom, he grabs a pair of boxers out of his dresser and disappears into the bathroom. Danny gazes at Steve’s bed as he toes off his shoes and takes off his pants—he really didn’t think they were going to end up here tonight, but he’s not exactly complaining.

He was absolutely planning on taking a minute to talk about whatever happened down on the couch, but then Steve comes out of the bathroom, dressed only in boxers, with that look on his face that Danny has quickly come to recognize, and…well, he’s only human. He barely has enough time to gulp before Steve is on him, curving down and capturing his lips with a ferocity that Danny tries to match.

He opens his mouth on a groan and quickly slides his hands down Steve’s sides and hips, tucking them into the bottom of his boxers and squeezing his thighs. Steve has his shirt unbuttoned in like four seconds, and while Danny’s pretty sure he heard one hit the floor, he doesn’t even have a chance to complain because Steve’s shoving him down onto the bed and wrestling with his boxers.

Danny wiggles, impatiently and probably more than a little awkwardly, but he manages to fling them off one foot and tug Steve partway on top of him. His hand is warm as it skims down his stomach and then scorching when it finally wraps around his dick. Steve’s grip is dry and a little rough, but his calluses feel amazing, similar to Danny’s but different enough to be exciting. The technique isn’t great—not that Danny’s complaining _or_ judging because he would have no idea what to do with another guy’s dick in his hand, either—but he’s so turned on that he could probably come from just Steve’s gaze on him. “Fuck,” he gasps, arching up and thrusting into his hand, and Steve smirks.

Danny would scowl or snark in response if he had enough working brain cells, but alas. He can at least kiss that dumb grin off his face, so that’s what he does, wrapping a hand around the nape of Steve’s neck and yanking him down. They meet open-mouthed, and Steve’s teeth press painfully against his lip for a second. “Ow,” he mutters into Steve’s mouth, through their kisses. “Violent, I tell you.”

“It’s insulting that you’re still talking,” he says, the words muffled as he kisses down Danny’s jaw to his neck. He finds some magical ninja spot that’s apparently hotwired to his dick, and Danny has to bite his lip to keep from whimpering. He won’t let himself whimper, but he can groan, that’s manly enough, and he can also tilt his head further and shove his neck closer to Steve’s mouth.

“Jesus,” he says, panting more than is likely flattering. “M’gonna come…faster.”

Steve immediately slows the pace _and_ loosens his grip, and Danny has never hated him more. “You fucker,” he gets out, kicking weakly at Steve’s shin, but the bastard just chuckles. “I _will_ shove you off this bed and do it myself, don’t even try me.”

“And yet you’re still talking.”

“Well, I can _now_ ,” Danny says, gesturing to his crotch. He’s certainly still hard, but he’s not so close to the edge anymore, what with Steve’s hand moving torturously slowly. “So I’m not allowed to talk? Don’t lie to yourself, babe, you _love_ the sound of my voice.”

“That’s correct,” Steve says, nodding with a straight face, and Danny blinks, a little surprised that he admitted it so readily.

“Well—okay. But I can’t talk? Mixed messages there, Steven.”

“You can talk about me.”

“Oh, I can, can I? Do you need your ego stroked during sex?”

“Would you like me to keep stroking _you_ ,” Steve says with a vicious squeeze, making him gasp, “or no?”

“I think flattery will get me everywhere. Do you wanna hear that you’re hot? That I could barely stop thinking about you for the past two weeks?”

“Mmm,” Steve says, his eyes glazing over. “Yeah.”

He picks up the pace again, adding a delicious little twist, and Danny lets himself whimper, just once. He was kind of joking about the ego stroking thing, but his words were certainly true, and maybe Steve _wasn’t_ joking.

“Or that all I’ve been doing is jacking off while I think about you?” he says, and Steve speeds up even more as he scoots closer and starts kissing underneath Danny’s ear. “Like seriously, all the time.”

“This is better, though, right?” Steve asks, his breath hot against the skin of Danny’s neck, and he tries to laugh, though it comes out strangled and probably unrecognizable. Then it hits him, and it’s all he can do to arch up into Steve’s grip and freeze for a second, holding his breath against the onslaught until it breaks and he falls back against the bed, panting. He comes all over Steve’s hand, but he doesn’t seem to care because he’s just stroking Danny through it, slowly, and staring down at him with wide eyes.

“Shit,” he says finally, pausing to clear his throat. “Yeah, that was better.”

Steve pecks him on the forehead and then tumbles off the bed. He comes back with a damp washcloth, for which Danny is eternally grateful, and cleans him off carefully before tossing it over his shoulder in the general direction of the bathroom.

“Can I tell you something?” he asks, rolling onto his side, and Danny mirrors his position, far less gracefully. But he did just have an orgasm, after all, and he’s not sure everything is working yet.

“I could smack you for even asking, but I won’t. Of course, you can tell me anything.”

Steve nods slowly, his gaze down, and Danny’s heart rate picks right back up again—shit, is this where the other shoe drops? Like _sorry, Danny, thought I could do this, but I can’t_ or _actually I hated having another guy’s dick in my hand, whoops_. Should be put his boxers back on for this conversation? But Steve doesn’t appear to be moving away, mentally or physically, and he appears to be quite content having his legs tangled with Danny’s.

“You know, uh, that night, when you said I was a control freak in bed, too?” he asks, finally, and Danny nods. He takes a deep breath and relaxes a bit—this doesn’t seem to be going where he had feared. “Yeah, the thing is, I don’t really, uh, want to be, and I’ve never been able to…have that before, I guess. I’ve never trusted anyone enough to, uh, ask for that.”

Danny nods again, as all the pieces click into place. He’d picked up on that, a little bit, hence the episode on the couch, but he had no idea that it was such a hidden part of Steve. He smiles and scratches his fingers through the hair at the nape of Steve’s neck, making him arch into the touch like some kind of big cat.

“You don’t seem surprised,” Steve continues, his face uncertain, and Danny smiles.

“Well. Kinda. You were so,” Danny says, making vague motions with his hands, “alpha, I guess. That night. From what I saw.”

“I mean, it’s what girls like—at least, the ones I’ve come across. It’s fine, it’s good. It’s really good, often. But it’s not…”

“Oh, I understand,” Danny says, his smile widening. “I’m really glad you told me, thank you.”

“It’s not like…not a _lot_ ,” he says, and Danny never really expected to see Steve McGarrett blush. It’s more endearing than he even would have guessed. “Just a little. Like—”

“Like on the couch,” Danny finishes, and Steve nods jerkily, swallowing.

“Yeah,” he says, drawing out the word, and Danny rolls a little closer.

“I kinda thought so,” he says lowly, right into Steve’s ear, nipping on the lobe and making him squirm. “That night, when I told you to make her come, the way you looked at me…”

“Fuck,” he breathes, then twists his head for a kiss. It’s gentler than it ever has been between them, Steve’s palm curving over his cheek, and Danny’s breath catches in his throat. It gets dirtier but somehow stays sweet, and from what Danny can feel against his stomach, Steve’s hard again. He starts to sit up, but Steve’s hand darts out, lightning-quick, and presses on his chest to make him lie back down. He straddles his lap, and Danny looks up at him, his eyebrows drawn together in slight surprise.

“Well, I don’t want to give up control _all_ the time,” he says, a smile ghosting at his lips, and Danny laughs, high-pitched and a little hysterical because he still can’t believe that this is actually happening.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, babe. I’d get down on my knees for you anytime.”

“Jesus,” Steve says, eyes wide as he reaches down to squeeze the base of his dick. “You can’t just—”

“What,” he asks, grinning, “afraid of a little hair trigger situation, are we?”

“Shut up,” Steve growls, though the fierceness of his tone is belied by his smile. “You’re never gonna let me forget that, are you?”

“Oh, no, definitely not,” Danny says, smirking while he rearranges himself against the headboard. “It’s the high point of my sex life to date, so…”

“I’ll see what I can do about those high points,” he says. He inches forward on his knees until he’s over Danny’s chest. “This okay?”

Danny nods and grips his ass cheek to pull him a little closer. “Oh, yeah. I mean, I know I said I would get on my knees, but ya know, bum knee thing—”

“Yeah, I get it,” Steve interrupts, laughing. “I appreciate the sentiment.”

“But I’ve never, uh,” he says, gesturing between his face and Steve’s dick. “So it’s probably gonna suck.”

Steve grins, his eyes lighting up, and Danny winces. He waves his hand as if he’s trying to push the words away. “Can you—just don’t, please. It’s too easy.”

“It _better_ suck,” he says triumphantly, and Danny glares up at him.

“ _Nothing_ is gonna suck, let me tell you, if you don’t shut up.”

“I think that’s my line.”

Steve looks, wow, really imposing from this angle, and Danny takes a deep breath as he reaches up tentatively to grip his dick. “Okay, can you just—look over there or something?” he says, gesturing wildly and cursing the flush on his cheeks. “This is a little embarrassing.”

“Oh, no way,” he says, with a little laugh, and then hurriedly adds, “But we don’t—”

“All right, none of that, come on,” Danny says, swatting him on the ass before he can pull back. “I’m fine, jeez.”

He licks his lips and tries not to think about Steve looking down at him. People do this all the time, it can’t be that difficult. The angle is easy, anyway, and it’s simple enough to just lean forward, take the head of Steve’s dick into his mouth, and suck gently. Steve jerks forward then with a gasp, making Danny sputter, and he pulls off to frown up at him. “That was _not_ polite, Steven, I will get you back for that.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he says, his eyebrows knitted together in remorse, and he slides his thumb through the hair at Danny’s temple.

Danny leans forward again, more carefully this time, and gets a little rhythm going with his mouth and his hand. This isn’t so bad, not bad at all. Steve’s making a lot of noise, actually, which is gratifying, as is his fierce grip on Danny’s hair. He personally has always enjoyed just a tint of teeth in his blowjob, so he gingerly lets them graze against the sensitive skin.

Steve groans but doesn’t pull back. “Please don’t get me back that way.”

“Don’t be a baby, it feels good. I won’t bite your dick off, I promise.”

Danny licks and sucks a little harder, a little faster, and while Steve is soon panting and cursing, he’s still frozen in place, his thigh trembling under Danny’s hand. He rolls his eyes a little and replaces his mouth with his hand. “You can move, you know. Just no choking, be nice.”

“I did not know it was possible for someone to talk so much while _giving_ a blowjob.”

“Well, maybe you should stop me from talking,” Danny says, but he’s barely able to get the words out before the head of Steve’s dick is pressing against his lips. He opens his mouth on a moan and really goes for it, or at least tries to, remembering that enthusiasm counts for more than half of a good blowjob. He wraps his free arm around Steve’s ass and keeps him close, encouraging the little thrusts of his hips.

“Danny, fuck,” Steve says, satisfyingly breathless. Danny can tell that he’s close so he doesn’t pull back, but he hums in encouragement. “Shit, do that again.”

He obeys and then moans of his own accord when Steve tugs on his hair. He should probably tell him how much he likes that, just in case he hasn’t already figured it out.

“I have jerked off more times in the past two weeks than I have since…god, I don’t even know,” Steve says, the words coming out broken and rushed and breathless. His hand is on Danny’s face now, thumbing down his cheek and curving around his jaw. “Thinking about exactly this. And a whole lot of other shit.”

Danny squirms, suddenly inspired to get Steve off as fast as humanly possible, and speeds up his hand. Steve tenses in Danny’s grip and then rips away with a whine, staggering backward on his knees and coming in long stripes across Danny’s chest.

Danny gasps for breath, wiping his mouth and watching greedily as Steve comes down from his orgasm. He has one hand braced on Danny’s shoulder, the other on the bed, and appears to be thoroughly wrecked and relaxed. “Jesus, that was great,” he says, his smile wonderfully wide and slack.

Danny can’t _not_ kiss him, not with that face on, so he levers up awkwardly and tugs on Steve’s hair to bring his head down. It’s sloppy and difficult, considering the angle, and Danny soon drops back down onto the pillows. “Well, you’re welcome.”

“I wanna try,” Steve says, with that determined glint in his eye that Danny knows all too well, and he slides down between Danny’s legs before he can even process the words.

“Fuck, Steve, I don’t know if I can—”

“Come again?” he says with another grin, this one dirtier as he gently picks up Danny’s dick and gives a slow pull. Danny huffs a laugh because that’s exactly what he was going to say, but his dick seems to recognize that tonight is a special occasion, thank god, and starts to thicken in Steve’s hand. “I don’t really see a problem here.”

“Lucky me, apparently.”

“I think it likes me,” Steve says, ducking down to give an experimental lick that makes Danny gasp. “Probably more than you do, actually.”

Danny laughs and shakes his head. “Is it really an _it_?”

“Well, that’s what you just said.”

“Okay, can we stop talking about the pronoun preference of my dick? And if you name it, I will _not_ be gentle with my teeth next time, I can promise you that much.”

“Wow,” Steve says, stretching out onto his stomach and propping himself up onto his elbows. “We’ve devolved to threats already. I thought the honeymoon period would last a little longer.”

“Hey, hey, we’re honeymooning,” Danny protests. Steve sucks on the head in response, and he arches up, trying to keep his hips still. “My dick loves you, _I_ love you. Is that better?”

“Much,” he says, clearly satisfied. The first touches of his tongue are tentative, but he moves with more purpose once Danny groans his appreciation. It’s definitely a turn-on to have someone this strong holding down his hips, and he thrusts up into it a little bit just to feel Steve easily press him back down. The inability to move is really ratcheting up his arousal, as is the extent to which Steve is clearly enjoying this. His eyes are closed and most of the inhibition appears to be gone as he sucks and licks and strokes with vigor. His little grunts and groans are clearly audible, and Danny echoes each one.

The end is coming up way too soon for Danny, though, and he manages to get out a muffled, garbled warning before it hits him and he’s frozen in place with pleasure. Steve moves out of the way but not fast enough, and a couple stray streaks of come land across his cheek and lips.

“Fuck,” Danny mutters, pulling Steve up and wiggling himself down the bed at the same time. He rubs his cheek with his thumb and kisses him, sweeping his tongue over the spot of come on his lip. Steve deepens the kiss, stealing the very last of Danny’s oxygen, and Danny eagerly thrusts up against him as he rides out the last spasms. He finally pulls back and slings one arm around Steve’s neck.

“You look really good with come on your face,” he says, grinning, and Steve rolls his eyes with a little laugh.

“Yeah, I’m not so sure that’s a compliment.”

“What!” he yelps, indignant as he shoves at Steve’s shoulder. “Of course it is. No one else’s come, though, just mine.”

“Is that your way of saying that you want to be exclusive?” Steve asks, his face passive, and Danny’s brain stutters to a halt.

“Uh, yes,” he says finally, clearing his throat. “Fuck yeah, actually.”

“I want that, too,” Steve says, with a little smile that Danny returns. He moves to his hands and knees over Danny and gazes down at him, his head tilted. “I also want you to fuck me.”

Danny freezes as his brain stutters to a halt, and his mouth drops open in a wholly unattractive way. “Damn it, Steve, you can’t just say shit like that to a guy, holy fuck,” he says, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. “That’s a big step. Are you sure you don’t want to, you know, think about this?”

“I _have_ been thinking about it, ever since that night,” Steve says, covering Danny with his body and leaning down to kiss him again. The thought of it makes Danny groan, and he lunges up into the kiss for a long minute—he’s only human—before pulling back.

“Sleep on it, okay? Please?” Danny asks, and he covers Steve’s lips with his fingers when he opens his mouth. “We’ve been drinking, this is new…”

“I’m not drunk,” Steve says, rolling his eyes, and Danny scoffs.

“I know that. Humor me. Please. And plus, come on, you came twice already. We’re old, man. There’s no way I’m getting it up again.”

“We’re not _old_ ,” Steve says mulishly, though he flops onto his back and seems to give in, thank goodness—Danny’s dick definitely couldn’t handle that tonight.

“Excuse me, don’t get too comfortable. Where is that washcloth? I am a mess,” Danny says, gesturing toward himself. “Come and body hair is a disastrous combination.”

Steve opens one eye to peek at him, though he doesn’t budge from his sprawl. “It’s not all mine.”

“Yeah, but you _caused_ all of it. Ergo, your responsibility.”

Steve heaves a sigh but obediently hefts himself out of bed and toward the bathroom again. “I didn’t hear you complaining when I was sucking your dick,” he calls out over his shoulder, and Danny smiles, since Steve can’t see him.

“Oh, that’s what this is, you’re proud of yourself, huh?”

“Very,” he says triumphantly as he flops down onto the bed. Danny pauses, thinking about what to say, and Steve clearly notices. “You _can_ compliment me, you know. I won’t hold it against you.”

“Fine. You have a lot to be proud of.”

“Thank you,” Steve says, a little too primly considering that they’re discussing blowjobs. “As do you.”

Once Danny’s sufficiently clean, he lets himself be manhandled until Steve is comfortable, apparently, curled up behind him. “In the morning, I will fuck you as much as you want, okay?”

“Danny,” Steve says, stretching the word out around a groan. He tightens his grip on his waist, making Danny bite his lip.

“And just so you know, I am not setting a little spoon precedent here, okay?”

“You’re the worst. Just shut up and go to sleep,” he mutters, but truly, with the way Danny can feel Steve’s lips curving into a smile against his hairline, it really isn’t so threatening.

* * *

It is _warm_ when Steve wakes up, that’s the first thing he notices. Sure, it’s Hawaii, it’s always warm, but he sleeps with his windows open, and there’s usually a decently cool breeze in the morning.

He’s also been confined to a fairly small portion of the bed—he’s on his stomach, with one arm trailing to the ground—and the heat source seems to be coming from on top of him. He cranes his neck up and around to see Danny, starfished on the bed, also on his stomach, with about 30 percent of his body on top of Steve’s and taking up way more space than Steve even thought he could—which is a pretty apt metaphor for the rest of his life, actually.

It’s deliciously comfortable, especially with Danny’s adorable little snuffles near his ear—a phrase that he will _never_ repeat—so Steve burrows down in his pillow and dozes, something he never lets himself do.

The paranoid and pessimistic part of him, which is not exactly a small part, wants to worry about how neatly all this turned out. He had spent the past two weeks withdrawn, trying to escape the sudden onslaught of not-just-friendship feelings, and it turns out Danny had been doing the exact same thing. Part of him still can’t quite believe it. But for once, the negative side is being drowned out by the good side, the side that just wants to be happy and roll over and let Danny fuck him into oblivion.

Fuck. Just going down that train of thought makes his morning erection harder, and he has to press down against the mattress for a second to get some relief.

He can’t believe he actually told someone what he wanted. It’s not exactly his deepest and darkest secret—there are a lot of those in his line of work—but he hadn’t expected to ever share with anyone that sometimes, in bed, he would really just prefer to give up control. He couldn’t resist, though, not after Danny took him on the couch and made him come in about four seconds. That would have been really embarrassing—well, it _was_ embarrassing, actually, but it could have been a lot worse if it weren’t so goddamn hot.

Danny shifts then, more purposefully than before, and Steve arches back against the hard dick against his lower back. “Hi,” he murmurs, and Steve clenches his eyes shut—he really wasn’t mentally prepared for Danny’s morning voice. It had never affected him before, when he’d called at the ass crack of dawn and woken him up for work, but right now the rough, gravelly tone just makes him want to grind down against the mattress.

“Hey.”

“How long have you been awake?”

“Not long,” he says, squirming and twisting until they’re belly-to-belly, their legs tangled. “I woke up with this furnace on top of me, though.”

“That is a _prized_ trait in Jersey, let me tell you what, babe. Those winters are rough.”

“Oh god, is that where we are? Am I in the middle of a nightmare?”

“Hey,” Danny says, poking him viciously in the ribs. “I thought we had reached the point in our relationship where you don’t shit on Jersey anymore, and I don’t shit on Hawaii.”

“You shit on Hawaii _all_ the time,” he says, grinning, and Danny scoffs.

“Not _really_ , not seriously. Not anymore. It’s home now.”

“Aw, really?” he says, unable to stop the smile from spreading across his face.

“Yeah, you big sap.”

Steve shifts so that he’s lying on top of Danny and grinds down against his thigh. “So you gonna fuck me now or what?”

“Well, I take back what I said about you being a sap,” he says, smiling as he runs his hands up Steve’s back.

“I’m sorry, Sir Daniel, would you like to make _looove_ to me now? Is that better?”

Danny laughs and shakes his head, tilting his face up to kiss him. “God, please no. We’ve talked about this, romantic isn’t your thing.”

“Hey!” he says, pretending to be affronted. “I can be very romantic.”

“I’ll have to take your word for it because you did just pretty much order me to fuck you.”

“Yeah, and I was serious,” Steve says, with a little jerk of his head, “come on, let’s go.”

Danny grins. “What, you don’t wanna go swim around the island first? Maybe find some unsuspecting criminals to rough up? Have a little fun with some TNT?”

“Danny,” he says, going for flat and ending up a little too close to petulant. Danny laughs again, his eyes warm and crinkly in that way Steve loves. “You promised, babe.”

“What, you think I won’t deliver?” he asks, and then he flips them in a way that has even Steve amazed.

“How the hell did you do that?” he asks, gazing up at him.

Danny ignores the question and leans down to kiss him. It’s intense right off the bat, deep and wet, and Steve’s arousal shoots from moderate straight to extreme. Danny is a really fucking good kisser, playful and thorough in equal measure, and Steve is just trying to keep up, really.

He hooks an elbow around Danny’s neck and tugs him down further so he can feel his weight. God, it feels good, pressing him down into the mattress. Danny’s dick is hard and pressing against his stomach, so he tries to flex his abs and give him a little bit of friction.

Danny shifts, as if he’s moving away, and Steve reflexively tightens his grip before he realizes that he’s just reaching for the nightstand. Danny smiles at him and drops a kiss on his nose before he kneels up and rummages around where he’s correctly guessed that the lube is.

He settles back down between Steve’s legs and braces himself carefully over him so he can just reach Steve’s lips. Danny’s index finger slides in easily, and he just looks at Steve, one eyebrow raised. He shrugs, unashamed, and reaches down to lightly palm his dick. “What? I’ve been practicing.”

Danny chuckles and suddenly crooks his finger, making Steve jerk up and involuntarily grip his dick harder. “Yeah, well, I’ve been doing my research, too.”

“Jesus,” he gasps. He’d read about that, but he hadn’t really been able to reach it on his own. The delicious pressure is gone, though, when Danny withdraws and then comes back with two fingers. “Oh, shit.”

“You good?” Danny asks, a little breathless himself, and Steve nods.

“Yeah.” It’s definitely a stretch, and it burns a tiny bit, but it’s good. Really, how could _anything_ not be good with Danny on top of him, biting his lip and staring down at him with those bright blue eyes.

But then he’s on the move, kissing down Steve’s chest and stopping to lick at his nipple. His mouth is hot, making sharp pinpricks of sensation along his skin especially when Danny tugs a little with his teeth, just on the edge of where the pleasure stops. Steve squirms under the onslaught, and since his own hand has stilled around his dick, Danny bats it away as he lowers onto his stomach. He gets straight to the point, thankfully, and holy shit, he has apparently turned into a dick-sucking maven overnight because this is even better than it was yesterday—which was pretty damn good.

Steve thinks there are three fingers now, maybe, but it’s hard to concentrate on anything except for Danny’s warm, wet mouth. Steve wishes he could return any of the pleasure that he’s receiving, but he can’t really reach any part of Danny’s body and so settles for sliding his hand into his hair. He thinks Danny likes having his hair tugged, so he tries it, and sure enough, Danny groans around his dick, right on cue. Steve grins and does it again, swallowing hard himself when Danny flicks his gaze up. The desperation surges up within him, making his whole body shake a little bit, and he’s not sure he can wait any longer. He opens his mouth to say as much, but Danny cuts him off.

“You ready?” he asks, pressing on his prostate again to make him groan, and Steve nods as fast as he can, grinning. Danny laughs and withdraws his fingers slowly—Jesus, that’s a weird, empty feeling—then tugs at his hip.

Steve almost gets tangled in the sheets in his haste to flip over, but Danny manfully doesn’t mention it as he presses down on his back until Steve’s flat on his stomach. “Condoms?” he asks. Steve groans, and he can _feel_ Danny rolling his eyes behind him. “Come on, we’re not being dumb.”

“Bathroom,” he says, jerking his head, and then he’s suddenly cold. The nerves start to creep in a little bit, so the shivers aren’t just from the chill, and he takes a deep breath. This is good, he wants this, it’s gonna be great. It’s _Danny_ , so how could it not be. Sufficiently mollified for the moment, Steve buries his face in the pillow and wraps his arms around it.

The bed shifts as Danny comes back, and there’s a faint click of the lube being opened again. He nudges Steve’s legs open, enough to sit between them, and he’s suddenly very grateful for the pillow that hides his blush. The head of Danny’s dick is firm against him now, feeling slick and huge, and Steve holds his breath in anticipation, tightening his grip on the pillow.

But Danny isn’t moving—instead, he tips forward and starts digging at the tight muscles under Steve’s shoulder blades. The noise Steve makes must be more surprised than he thought because Danny chuckles a little bit. “You need to relax.”

“I’m good,” he protests, wiggling a little bit in his impatience, but the massage actually feels really good—Danny’s fingers are just all-around magic, apparently—and he sinks down further into the bed. There’s a buzzy, relaxed sensation now spreading through his body, and he feels heavy and boneless. Danny’s lips have joined the party now, dropping sloppy, open-mouthed kisses down his back.

Then he slides in, just an inch or so, Steve jerks in surprise. It hurts some, yeah, but not in a bad way—in a way that’s electric and lighting him up from the inside. “Oh, Jesus.”

When Danny slips inside a little more, Steve knows the sound that’s about to come out is going to be embarrassing, so he bites down on the corner of his pillow and lets the fabric muffle it. But then Danny stops, making him groan again. “Hey, hey, none of that. Let me hear you.”

Steve twists his head obediently and can just see him out of the corner of his eye. “Fuck, Danny,” he says brokenly.

“Okay?” he asks.

“Yeah,” he whispers. “C’mon, more.”

It’s overwhelming, the stretch, but not entirely in a bad way. And Danny’s there, kissing his shoulder blades and murmuring nonsense against his skin. While Steve knows that Danny has a big dick, it feels fucking endless right now. But he’s finally all the way in, his hips against the skin of Steve’s ass, and he has to gasp for breath. God, it feels like Danny’s in his _throat_ , and it’s even better than he had hoped.

“Oh, fuck, babe, you feel so good,” Danny says, sounding as wrecked as Steve feels. “You’re so good.”

He’s still for a few minutes, just shifting and letting Steve get used to the feeling. He eventually starts moving a little bit, and all the air has been punched out Steve’s lungs, apparently. He has sunk completely into the bed, and there’s nothing but Danny, on top of him and around him and holy shit, _inside_ him.

There’s no room under himself for his hand, but his dick is getting plenty of friction against the sheets, definitely enough to send him over the edge. Sooner rather than later, probably, with the way Danny keeps making those little noises as he moves.

“Fuck, Danny, I’m gonna come,” he says, his voice sounding rough and unrecognizable to his own ears.

“Uh-uh,” Danny says, stilling immediately. All the delicious pressure against his dick disappears, and Steve groans, trying to thrust back against him.

“Why the _fuck_ not?” he says, not giving two shits about how desperate he sounds.

“Because I want this to last a little longer,” he says, a little close to the edge himself, it sounds like, and then he withdraws completely. Steve groans in dismay and braces his forehead against the pillow. “Come on, flip over.”

He does so with a wince, wiggling his hips at the weird feeling and looking Danny up and down. His whole body is flushed, his chest heaving, and Steve has never wanted him more. He reaches up for him, but Danny presses him back down with a hand on his chest.

“I can’t, uh,” Danny says, gesturing widely between them, “because you are unfairly giant. So you are going to put your hands here, and keep them there, yeah?”

He moves Steve’s hands above his head and encourages his fingers to curl around the slats. He squeezes once, hard, before letting go, and Steve gazes up at his hands. “Yeah,” he breathes.

Danny sits back on his heels and tucks his knees under Steve’s ass, tugging him most of the way onto his lap. Steve eagerly wraps his legs around Danny’s waist and fidgets as much as he can in his constrained position. “Come on, c’mon.”

“I’m going, I’m going, calm down,” Danny says, but he shuffles forward an extra inch and presses just the head of his dick into Steve. He stops then, blowing out a breath, and Steve bites his lip to keep from smiling.

“While we’re still young please, Danny.”

Danny’s laugh is strained, and his face slackens into a dirty grin. “All right, if that’s how you want it,” he says, sliding all the way in with one fast, smooth stroke and making Steve yelp.

“Shit, shit, shit,” he chants, squirming against the sudden sharp feeling. It quickly fades back to the pleasurable fullness, though, and he clenches just to see Danny gasp and curse. He stills and waits for Danny to start thrusting again, but he appears to be frozen, save for the heaving of his chest and the way his eyes keep flicking up and town.

“Jesus. Look at you, all spread out for me,” he says, his hand warm and heavy and proprietary on Steve’s stomach, and Steve has to breathe very carefully to keep from coming. If Danny so much as lays a finger on his dick right now, it’s gonna be all over. “You like this, huh?”

He nods and has to swallow twice before he can speak. “Yeah. You like it, too.”

Steve didn’t phrase it as a question because it wasn’t one, but Danny nods anyway. “Yeah. Fuck yeah.”

“So since we’ve established that, can we, you know,” he says, thrusting his hips up as much as he can.

“What, get this show on the road?” Danny says, smiling outright now.

Steve has a reply right on the tip of his tongue, but it falls away with Danny’s first thrust, deep and somehow at the exact right angle to bump his prostate. “Fuck, Danny, fuck, just like that,” he says, in between gasps, and Danny obeys, apparently having given up on the teasing for the time being. He thinks he yells something, that’s probably embarrassing, but it just feels so motherfucking good. God, forget what he said about Danny’s hand, he’d probably be able to come _without_ him touching his dick.

He does, though, just curling around him lightly with the hand that’s still slick with lube, and Steve can only watch in a blissed-out daze. Having two points of sensation is just too much, and he floats for a little while on the hazy feeling of Danny thrusting in and out of him, hot and hard and disorienting in the best possible way, combined with the familiar feel of a hand on his dick.

The orgasm is curling inside him, he can feel the distant ripples of its approach, and he really needs to get his hands on Danny right the fuck now. “Fuck, babe, I gotta—lemme touch you, c’mon.”

Danny flicks his gaze up to his hands and nods. Steve lets go immediately, shivering at the rush that runs through him, and reaches for him. Danny gathers him up, and Steve obediently tilts his hips. They can kiss if they stretch, Danny curling down to envelop Steve with his whole body and hooking one of Steve’s legs over his arm. “Thank god you’re flexible,” he says into the kiss, and Steve laughs.

He slides a hand down his stomach—now he _really_ needs to come—but Danny grabs it and presses his wrist against the bed. “Oh, no way.”

Steve groans and twists his arm to clench Danny’s hand in his own. He could come without it, he thinks, but it’ll take a little while longer and he just doesn’t want to wait anymore. “Danny,” he snaps. “Please, goddamnit.”

“Well, all you had to do was ask nicely,” he says as he reaches between them again. His thrusts are shallow, just enough to nudge against Steve’s prostate with every stroke, and the top of Steve’s head feels like it’s going to blow off. “You gonna come for me, babe? Come on. Let me see it, let me see you come around my dick.”

As much as he wants to watch everything that’s happening, Steve’s eyes clench automatically. Danny’s filthy words wash over him, fading away to white noise when all he can hear is the blood rushing in his ears. It hits him like a punch to the gut, all of the tension releasing in a split second, and he grunts as he twists and writhes under Danny, spilling all over his own stomach.

When he comes back to full consciousness, Danny’s groaning, deliciously long and low, and falling to his elbows over Steve, nearly crushing him with his weight. He’s quiet and still now, save for a couple weak thrusts, so he must have come, too.

“Fuck,” Steve says plainly, when he regains the ability to speak, and Danny tries to laugh, though it comes out more like a moan. He shifts his hips, making Steve wince as he pulls out, and then plops right back down on top of him.

“Oh, yeah.”

“You wanna shower?” he asks a minute later, sweeping his hand up Danny’s back, but he shakes his head and burrows down further so that his head is tucked under Steve’s chin.

“No, in fact, no, I don’t. I want to stay right here until I feel like I can actually move again. Which will probably take a while.”

Steve chuckles, gently as not to dislodge his human blanket, and brings his other hand up to card through Danny’s hopelessly ruffled hair. “Okay,” he says, moving his legs so Danny’s cradled between them. He’s in this for the long haul and doesn’t have anywhere else to be.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a little bit written of a third part, in which Emily pops up again. Would anyone be interested in that?
> 
> And for a completely unrelated note…I’m thinking about jumping into the whole Twitter and/or Tumblr world. But I need a little encouragement because for some dumb reason I feel too old for Tumblr (which is ridiculous, I’m 25). It seems confusing, and I’m officially daunted!


End file.
